


Petrichor

by Blood Lightning (TheBrilliantDarkness)



Category: Tekken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrilliantDarkness/pseuds/Blood%20Lightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A plan Baek composes to get Steve and Hwoarang together takes an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favourite crackships, don't judge me.
> 
> Written as a response to a prompt featuring Steve/Baek and 'kissing in the rain'.

Generally speaking, Steve isn’t in the habit of stepping out on dates with men over twice his age. In fact, before today, he’d never ventured too far out of his age range when it came to relationships; the oldest person he’d dated had been a woman a couple of years his senior back when he was nineteen. And, certainly, if anyone had told Steve back then that he’d be dating one of his best-friend-slash-prospective-love-interest’s father figures in a few years time, he’d have laughed in their face.

But here he is, walking back to the King of Iron Fist-sponsored hotel after a very enjoyable evening out with none other than Baek Doo San.

It hadn’t been a genuine date, if one was to be strict. Baek had approached him a few days ago with a frankly bizarre scheme to draw Hwoarang’s attention away from Jin Kazama and onto Steve, in the hopes that it might break his student’s fixation with his rival somewhat.

“We’ll go on a date,” he said, straight-faced and matter-of-fact. “And we’ll make sure Hwoarang sees us – that should set some irrational jealousy off, and then he should be more concerned with winning you over than he will be with Kazama - at least for a few days.”  
  
And Steve had, somehow, been persuaded to come around to the idea. At first, he’d regretted it, even thought about calling the whole thing off – but it would be nice to have Hwoarang look at him as a potential partner, even if he had to coerce that sort of attention out of him, and Baek was a nice enough guy. He’d even promised to buy him dinner.

So Steve had readied himself for the date, and Baek had picked him up and whisked him off to a very nice little place in the town. They’d slipped into conversation with surprising ease; Steve found himself laughing at Baek’s anecdotes, and Baek proved to be a good listener and advisor when Steve found himself opening up about certain anxieties. When Hwoarang came across them (Baek had picked the restaurant not only for its food, but its outdoor tables that looked onto the busy high street Hwoarang frequented) they’d both effortlessly played into being very interested in one another; Baek had laid his hands over Steve’s in a casual show of affection as he informed Hwoarang of their having decided to see one another on the sly – ‘well, you’re always so busy chasing certain other competitors that we didn’t even think you’d notice’ – and Steve hadn’t had to fake the light blush that had come to colour his cheeks. Hwoarang had, of course, stormed off in a huff.  
  
“Do you think Hwoarang’s going to be angry for long?” Steve asks now, as he and Baek walk side-by-side on their way back to the hotel.  
  
“I doubt it,” Baek shrugs. “He’ll sulk for a little while, but he gets over these things quickly. I’m sure he’ll be all over you by tomorrow afternoon.”  
  
Steve had easily passed all of Baek’s tests - the ‘date’ had been as much about affirming whether or not Steve was good enough for Hwoarang as it had been about making his student jealous. Baek made mental notes of Steve’s desirable traits as the night went on; the boxer was considerate, patient, laidback, sensible – all things Hwoarang would benefit from in a partner. He’d even caught himself wishing, once or twice, that he were young again so that he could get to know Steve a little more… intimately. Such thoughts had been shaken from his head, however – they were terribly inappropriate, regardless of how handsome and charming the boxer was.  
  
It’s when they’re about five minutes away from the hotel that Steve feels the first touch of rain, and he holds his hand out to check for it moments before Baek speaks up:  
  
“I think it’s going to rain.”  
  
The two cast their eyes to the sky; sure enough, the stars are hidden behind dark clouds.  
  
“Looks like it’s going to be heavy,” Steve says, putting a hand ineffectively over his head as new drops begin to fall with increasing frequency. “Might be worth legging it back to the hotel at this rate?”  
  
“No need for any of that,” Baek says, waving a hand. “I did come prepared, after all.”  
  
He holds the umbrella he’s brought along aloft, and Steve grins sheepishly. Earlier, he’d taken it upon himself to take the mick out of Baek for bringing an umbrella out on such a clear evening; obviously he’d just had the foresight to check the weather and plan ahead.  
  
“Alright for some,” Steve says, watching enviously as Baek props the umbrella up. The rainfall is getting heavier with every passing moment, and Steve’s flimsy clothing is not going to stand up to it well.  
  
“There’s room for two,” Baek says, lifting the umbrella a little higher and raising an eyebrow at the Brit. He tries to ignore how Steve’s white shirt is gradually becoming translucent as the rain wets it. “This should pass over in a few minutes. It won’t hurt us to stand here and wait it out.”  
  
Steve hesitates and looks dubiously at the umbrella. Certainly, if he and Baek were both average size, they’d both fit beneath it quite comfortably; as it is, Steve is quite broad, and Baek is rather built for a man of his age - it might be pushing it to squeeze both of them under the fabric.  
  
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking earnestly at Baek. “It might be a bit… crowded?”  
  
Baek rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get drenched otherwise.”  
  
Steve chews his lip in deliberation – but the rain is approaching torrential levels and he’d rather not get absolutely soaked, so he steps under the stretched fabric and finds himself suddenly inches away from being pressed full-body against Baek.  
  
It was one thing having spent the evening face-to-face with Baek across a table, and quite another to be chest-to-chest with him in the limited space beneath the umbrella. This new proximity, enforced as it is by the sheets of rain falling around them, gives room for nothing but new observations to be made by the men about one another.  
  
Steve, for his part, is struck anew by just how attracted he is to Baek. The master has none of the soft, youthful androgyny of his student; rather, he is handsome, effortlessly masculine. The lines at his eyes and on his forehead do nothing to detract from the alluring sharpness of the man’s features - if anything, they only make him all the more desireable, acting as appealing markers of age and experience in much the same way as his silver hair. Steve notes, absently, that Baek is shorter than he - but only slightly. The difference is nigh on imperceptible what with the quiet authority of his presence; he naturally stands straight and tall, holding himself in such a way that one could perceive him to be bigger than he actually is.  
  
And Baek finds himself setting his jaw against the heady longing that threatens to creep back into his thoughts about his young ‘date’. It’s hard, in such close quarters, not to think on how strikingly good-looking Steve is; he really is a man at peak physical condition. The lean muscle he carries is beautifully maintained. And then there’s the boxer’s face – remarkably unmarred, considering his choice of profession, and undeniably handsome. Baek bites his lower lip, tries to keep his eyes from wandering as he reminds himself that to do anything with Steve would be improper for someone of his age.  
  
But the rain is hammering down outside of the umbrella, so neither one of them moves to increase the distance.  
  
Baek goes to speak, hoping to break the awkward silence that has arisen between them – only, Steve chooses that moment to anxiously run his tongue over his lips, and Baek is so distracted that he forgets himself and fixes his gaze on the young boxer’s face.  
  
Baek’s staring doesn’t escape Steve’s notice, and the Brit averts his eyes, the uncertainty surrounding the whole situation combining with the intimacy of his proximity to Baek to render him bashful. It’s impossible to deny that he is genuinely attracted to the older man – but god, he doesn’t know how to read this situation. Is this just another part of the charade for Baek, a bit of method acting to ensure that he stays in character? Or is the burgeoning desire that Steve can feel whispering through his nerves something mutual?  
  
Too afflicted with shyness and doubt to look at his ‘date’, Steve misses the softening of Baek’s naturally sharp features, doesn’t see the way his eyes go dark with want.  
  
It’s been so long since Baek’s allowed himself to act on any romantic desires. He’s avoided intimacy for years, in fact, too ashamed of the capacity for cruelty he’d proved himself in possession of back when he’d been young and angry. He hadn’t been a good partner back then; indeed, there had been certain lovers whom he’d been downright awful to, and he’s been so fearful of slipping back into that with anyone that his more recent conquests have been few and far between. But now, with Steve so close to him, coy and wet and acting in a way that suggests that Baek’s feelings aren’t one-sided, he finds that none of those old fears are enough to deter him.  
  
He tries to remember that Steve is so much younger than him – hell, he’s Hwoarang’s age, hardly out of his teenage years, and with so much left to see and do with his life. This can’t lead to anything sustainable, Baek tells himself; even if Steve reciprocates his advances, whatever follows will be a passing thing with all the desperate impermanence of the falling rain.  
  
But Steve’s eyelashes flutter slightly as he chances a quick glance at Baek, and Baek resolves that a fleeting moment seized is better than one allowed to slip away forever.  
  
Steve doesn’t flinch away when he feels the touch of Baek’s fingers beneath his chin. He yields easily when the older man applies gentle pressure, silently asking that he lift his head and make eye contact. Steve meets Baek’s gaze hesitantly; the older man’s eyes are half-lidded with want, and yet are soft, undemanding. Steve recognises that Baek is silently asking that he stop him now if this isn’t what he wants.  
  
Emboldened suddenly, Steve leans in and his eyes slip shut as he presses his lips against Baek’s.

For a few moments, the two men are still. Neither one moves to push closer, nor to pull away, and all either of them can process is the fact that yes, this is happening.  
  
But that does not last, and Steve shudders with pleasure when Baek’s lips move against his, slow and soft and so utterly undemanding that it sets the younger man’s heart aflutter. Baek moves his hand from Steve’s chin to brush it over the side of the Brit’s face, then curls it round to tease at the back of his neck. Steve breaks away momentarily to gasp, and Baek strokes reassuringly over the sensitive skin at his nape, moves in to start the kiss anew.  
  
Baek certainly isn’t the first person Steve has ever kissed, but god, he’s the only one who’s ever been so sensitive to his reactions in so little time. His technique is breathtaking; quiet and featherlight, so careful and unrushed that Steve can’t do much more than melt into it. The gentle but deliberate touch of Baek’s hand at the back of Steve’s neck serves only to engender a submissive neediness that the younger man has never felt before, but which he finds himself more than happy to acquiesce to if it is provoked by this.  
  
Steve moves slowly to grip at Baek’s suit jacket, tugs ever so slightly, eager to pull the other man closer and deepen the kiss. Baek responds by closing what little gap there was between them entirely, absently adjusting his grip on the umbrella as he moves to ensure that the rain doesn’t interrupt them. Steve parts his lips shyly, hoping that Baek will take the bait – and sure enough, the next kiss is hot and open-mouthed. It’s all Steve can do not to dissolve into a quivering, keening mess when he feels the slide of Baek’s tongue against his own.  
  
It sinks in that Steve has never had a partner be so slow and gentle with him, and the thought prompts him to whimper desperately into Baek’s mouth. The sound threatens to bring Baek back to his senses, and he makes to pull away and check that Steve is okay – but Steve’s hands come to rest on either side of Baek’s face, and the younger man leans in with a shuddering moan.  
  
Neither man notices as the rain diminishes. So caught up are they in each other that they take no heed as the hammering of the rain against the umbrella peters out into a light tapping before it stops completely.  
  
The kiss becomes something languid and indulgent. Baek feels Steve relax more and more beneath his hand, and he strokes soothingly over the back of the boxer’s neck, thrilling at the pleased little sounds the blond makes when he does so. Steve is beside himself with need, his kisses growing ever more clumsy as he tries ineffectually to tease Baek into being a little more rough with him. He’s nearly there, he thinks, Baek’s lips are moving with just that much more force and desperation when -  
  
“Get a room!”  
  
Baek and Steve jolt apart. They look at one another wide-eyed, then cast awkward glances at the source of the shout – a thoroughly drenched passerby who clearly doesn’t want anyone else in the world to be happy if he isn’t. The stranger scowls at them as he passes, and then he is gone, leaving Steve and Baek to come to terms with their… situation…  
  
“The rain’s stopped,” Baek says, unable to make eye contact or even look at Steve. Oh, that whole thing was a mistake – Steve will probably write the experience off as a novelty, will think back on the kiss as a strange flight of fancy prompted by odd circumstances, and Baek will be stuck yearning after someone he can never have.  
  
Why does he do these things to himself?  
  
“Yeah,” Steve replies, shifting awkwardly on his feet. God, Baek won’t even look at him. That’s what he gets for acting on those hormonal urges that still rear their heads from time to time. Now things are going to be awkward between them, and that’s a shame, because Baek was some of the best conversation Steve had had for a while, and that kiss had just been wow – “We should, um. We should probably get back to the hotel.”  
  
Baek nods tightly. He puts the umbrella down, and the two of them restart their journey.  
  
It takes no more than a couple of minutes for the silence to drive Steve to distraction. He swallows the lingering embarrassment and speaks up.  
  
“Back there,” he starts, pausing to chew his lip and think on what to say. “I, um –“  
  
“I apologise,” Baek says, voice stiff, eyes straight ahead as he focuses on maintaining his composure. “It was inappropriate of me.”  
  
“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Well, I –um…”  
  
Baek feels the brush of Steve’s hand against his as they walk. He would have snatched his hand away, had he the presence of mind to do so; as it is, his brain offers no flight plan for this, and he can only stare dumbly ahead as Steve weaves his fingers shyly in amongst his. Baek blinks, swallows the lump threatening to form in his throat. Does Steve… want him?  
  
“I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” Steve says. Baek looks at him incredulously, sees Steve blushing furiously and looking straight ahead in that coy, avoidant way.  
  
Hardly able to believe it, Baek finds himself laughing under his breath. He yields to Steve’s hand-holding, adjusting his fingers so that they lock in neatly against the boxer’s.  
  
“Well,” Baek says, unable to will the smile off his face. “Hwoarang might be less pleased about this.”  
  
Steve laughs openly.  
  
They don’t speak again on the walk back, traversing the last of the rain drenched streets in happy, contented silence. Part of Baek is still muttering darkly that this will never last, that Steve is too young and he too old for this to ever work long-term – but Baek watches the rainwater drip from the greenery planted around the hotel, and figures that everything is transitory. It doesn’t matter that it won’t go on forever; sometimes the fleeting things are the those that leave the greatest impression on the heart.


End file.
